Complete Works of James Joyce (320 page)

(Takes his hat from the table.)
Richard, goodbye.
(Offering his hand.)
To our next meeting!

RICHARD

(Rises, touches his hand.)
Goodbye.

(Bertha appears at the door on the right.)

ROBERT

(Catches sight of her: to Archie.)
Get your cap. Come on with me. I’ll buy you a cake and I’ll tell you a story.

ARCHIE

(To Bertha.)
May I, mamma?

BERTHA

Yes.

ARCHIE

(Takes his cap.)
I am ready.

ROBERT

(To Richard and Bertha.)
Goodbye to pappa and mamma. But not a big goodbye.

ARCHIE

Will you tell me a fairy story, Mr Hand?

ROBERT

A fairy story? Why not? I am your fairy godfather.

(They go out together through the double doors and down the garden. When they have gone Bertha goes to Richard and puts her arm round his waist.)

BERTHA

Dick, dear, do you believe now that I have been true to you? Last night and always?

RICHARD

(Sadly.)
Do not ask me, Bertha.

BERTHA

(Pressing him more closely.)
I have been, dear. Surely you believe me. I gave you myself — all. I gave up all for you. You took me — and you left me.

RICHARD

When did I leave you?

BERTHA

You left me: and I waited for you to come back to me. Dick, dear, come here to me. Sit down. How tired you must be!

625

(She draws him towards the lounge. He sits down, almost reclining, resting on his arm. She sits on the mat before the lounge, holding his hand.)

BERTHA

Yes, dear. I waited for you. Heavens, what I suffered then — when we lived in Rome! Do you remember the terrace of our house?

RICHARD

Yes.

BERTHA

I used to sit there, waiting, with the poor child with his toys, waiting till he got sleepy. I could see all the roofs of the city and the river, the
Tevere.
What is its name?

RICHARD

The Tiber.

BERTHA

(Caressing her cheek with his hand.)
It was lovely, Dick, only I was so sad. I was alone, Dick, forgotten by you and by all. I felt my life was ended.

RICHARD

It had not begun.

BERTHA

And I used to look at the sky, so beautiful, without a cloud and the city you said was so old: and then I used to think of Ireland and about ourselves.

RICHARD

Ourselves?

BERTHA

Yes. Ourselves. Not a day passes that I do not see ourselves, you and me, as we were when we met first. Every day of my life I see that. Was I not true to you all that time?

RICHARD

(Sighs deeply.)
Yes, Bertha. You were my bride in exile.

BERTHA

Wherever you go, I will follow you. If you wish to go away now I will go with you.

RICHARD

I will remain. It is too soon yet to despair.

BERTHA

(Again caressing his hand.)
It is not true that I want to drive everyone from you. I wanted to bring you close together — you and him. Speak to me. Speak out all your heart to me. What you feel and what you suffer.

RICHARD

I am wounded, Bertha.

626

BERTHA

How wounded, dear? Explain to me what you mean. I will try to understand everything you say. In what way are you wounded?

RICHARD

(Releases his hand and, taking her head between his hands, bends it back and gazes long into her eyes.)
I have a deep, deep wound of doubt in my soul.

BERTHA

(Motionless.)
Doubt of me?

RICHARD

Yes.

BERTHA

I am yours.
(In a whisper.)
If I died this moment, I am yours.

RICHARD

(Still gazing at her and speaking as if to an absent person.)
I have wounded my soul for you — a deep wound of doubt which can never be healed. I can never know, never in this world. I do not wish to know or to believe. I do not care. It is not in the darkness of belief that I desire you. But in restless living wounding doubt. To hold you by no bonds, even of love, to be united with you in body and soul in utter nakedness — for this I longed. And now I am tired for a while, Bertha. My wound tires me.

(He stretches himself out wearily along the lounge. Bertha holds his hand, still speaking very softly.)

BERTHA

Forget me, Dick. Forget me and love me again as you did the first time. I want my lover. To meet him, to go to him, to give myself to him. You, Dick. O, my strange wild lover, come back to me again!

(She closes her eyes.)

Joyce in Sussex, 1923

CONTENTS

Et Tu, Healy

O fons Bandusiae

Are you not weary of ardent ways

I only ask you to give me your fair hands

La scintille de l’allumette

A voice that sings

Scalding tears shall not avail

Yea, for this love of mine

We will leave the village behind

Gladly above

After the tribulation of dark strife

Told sublimely in the language

Love that I can give you, lady

Wind thine arms round me

Where none murmureth

Lord, thou knowest my misery

Thunders and sweeps along

Though there is no resurrection from the past

And I have sat amid the turbulent crowd

Gorse-flower makes but sorry dining

That I am feeble, that my feet

The grieving soul. But no grief is thine

Let us fling to the winds all moping and madness

Hands that soothe my burning eyes

Now a whisper... now a gale

O, queen, do on thy cloak

Requiem eternam dona ei, Domine

Of thy dark life, without a love, without a friend

I intone the high anthem

Some are comely and some are sour

Flower to flower knits

In the soft nightfall

Discarded, broken in two

The Holy Office

Gas from a Burner

Alas, how sad the lover’s lot

O, it is cold and still - alas!

She is at peace where she is sleeping

I said: I will go down to where

Though we are leaving youth behind

Come out to where youth is met